


what you feel (but can't articulate out loud)

by colourexplosion



Category: One Direction (Band), Radio 1 RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Anal Sex, M/M, no one ever says the word 'daddy' tho, slight D/s, slight daddy kink, so it's more like
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-12
Updated: 2014-07-12
Packaged: 2018-02-08 11:43:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 13,674
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1939761
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/colourexplosion/pseuds/colourexplosion
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>louis is a first year university student. nick is his grad school boyfriend. (sort of)</p>
            </blockquote>





	what you feel (but can't articulate out loud)

**Author's Note:**

  * For [dorkstagram](https://archiveofourown.org/users/dorkstagram/gifts).



> big big big thanks to my beta, M, for putting up with my procrastination and inherent flakiness. also a big thanks to dorkstagram for the prompts! hope you like this. 
> 
> none of this is true and please don't show it to non-fandom folks. any remaining mistakes are mine.

Louis should never sit by the window. 

Incidentally, he always chooses his seat by a window because he likes to look out when he gets bored in class and pretend he’s somewhere else. Which, obviously, is why he should never sit by the window but always does. 

This class, though, Intro to Communications, always seems to hold his attention. It probably has something to do with his tall, quiffed, disgusting hipster of a seminar tutor, who-- while being a disgusting hipster, complete with skinny jeans and “vintage” Dr. Dre shirts-- is charming and a complete weirdo. But in an endearing way, really. Or Louis finds it endearing, at least, but the rest of the students don’t tend to appreciate their banter as much as they should. It’s like they want to learn and not listen to Louis bicker about whether or not radio is a dying form of media with the man who’s supposed to be lecturing. Louis doesn’t understand it at all. 

Then again, he could bicker with Nick about anything, probably; especially since Nick’s so easy to rile up. Louis’ never liked anyone more than a person who indulges him. Besides, maybe, a person who doesn’t let him get away with anything. 

The first day of class, Louis had walked in and set his stuff down next to the window and took a seat in the second row, so if he did decide to pay attention (unlikely), he’d be close enough to hear and see well enough without his glasses. The room was mostly empty at that point, since Louis liked to get to his courses early on the first day to claim his seat. A pair of girls sat two rows behind Louis, closer to the middle and one lone bloke sat in the back corner, his hood pulled over his hair. Louis was fairly certain he was asleep. 

He was considering a quick nap of his own before the door creaked open and a tall bloke walked in, carrying a leather satchel and dressed in black skinny jeans and a very ugly patterned jumper. He looked much, much too old to be a student, but he took the seat in front of Louis without making eye contact. Surely a professor wouldn’t do that? 

So, Louis leaned forward, elbows on the desk and said: 

“Aren’t you a little old to be a student?” 

The bloke had jumped a bit and then paused before slowly turning around. Louis would’ve given anything to have seen his face. 

When he’d finally turned around and looked at Louis, his eyebrow quirked up, and he gave Louis a once over. 

“You’re one to talk,” he’d said, not sounding nearly half as indignant as he should’ve. “At least I haven’t got gray hair.” 

“They’re natural blond highlights, thank you,” Louis said, “I’m flattered you noticed.” 

The man smiled and stuck his hand out, awkwardly twisting his arm around the front of his own body. Louis shook it. 

“Louis,” he said, giving him a smile. 

“Nick,” the bloke said, and Louis committed it to memory. “And I’m not actually a student. Not in this course, at least.” 

“Ah, a creeper then? Some kind of pervert?” Louis nodded sagely, even though Nick hadn’t answered him. “Hate to break it to you, but I think most of the students here are of age. You may need to look somewhere else, if that’s your thing.” 

“Most of them?” Nick’s eyes widened, but sort of sparkled with something like amusement. Louis had hated himself for even thinking something as trite as that. (Still does, actually, when he thinks about it.) “What about you, then?” 

Louis frowned. “Am I a paedophile?” 

“Well, I suppose that’s good thing to know,” Nick responded with a laugh. “But no. I meant your age. How old are you?” 

“Twenty.” 

“In a freshers course?” 

“Sod off. Took some time to figure things out.” 

“No harm in that,” Nick had said, and Louis had smiled. 

And then Nick had checked the clock and gotten out of his seat to stand at the front of the class and introduce himself. As their seminar tutor. 

Which, all things considered, probably shouldn’t have made Louis even more interested than he already was, but, well. 

That’s life.

\---

“You could just tell him you like him, you know,” Zayn says, kicking the wall. The heavy rubber heel of his boot stutters against the rock and probably scuffing it up. Louis would say something, but he knows Zayn doesn’t give a shit. Those boots have seen worse. They will see worse. 

“He’s my tutor, he’d get fired or something,” Louis says, taking a drag of his cigarette and handing it over. “Besides, he’s with that tall, curly-headed bloke, I think. At least, from the way they walk around giggling with each other."

“Harry?” Louis raises an eyebrow at Zayn. He didn’t know he knew anyone’s name. Except for his own and Louis’, of course. Louis nods. 

Zayn shakes his head. “Married to Liam, mate.” 

Louis’ eyes widen. “ _Married_?” Christ, he can’t be much older than Louis himself, especially considering the late start Louis got to the whole University thing in the first place. “They can’t be.” 

“They are,” Zayn says, taking a drag of his own cigarette, sounding unbothered by it all. “Niall said so. And I’ve seen the rings.” 

“Fuck.” Louis pauses, takes a moment to think about being married so young and shudders a bit. He can hardly think past what he’s going to eat in a few hours, much less spending the rest of his life with someone. It’s not that he’s against the idea, really. Not at all, actually. But he’s just-- they’ve got so much life left to live. Seems like a lot to spend with one person. 

Except, he supposes if there really is only one person you’d want to spend the rest of your life with and you knew it, you might as well get it over with. 

“So he’s not dating the curly-headed bloke,” Louis says, stubbing out his cig. “Doesn’t mean he’d go for some overaged fresher taking an introductory communications module.” 

Zayn’s gaze flickers over to him, and he shrugs. “Maybe, maybe not,” he says, his voice a slow drawl, but thoughtful all the same. Louis appreciates that about him. “But it doesn’t mean he wouldn’t. Why not try?” 

“The utter embarrassment and humiliation of getting rejected by your instructor,” Louis offers. He already makes an arse of himself enough in class, he’s sure, but he just can’t help the feeling that blooms in his chest when Nick laughs at something he says or makes eye contact with him over the other students, like they’re sharing some sort of in-joke, even though they’ve never even spoken outside of class. 

“Yeah, but if he doesn’t reject you, then it’s like--” Zayn waves a hand around, smoke leaving a faint trail where it comes off his cigarette. “-- Proper good, yeah? Aces. Awesome. Great. _Just dandy,_ ” he finishes off in an awful American accent, sending Louis a grin.

Louis kicks him in the shin. 

\---

Most of the time, Louis loves his courses. Sixth form had been frustrating for him, mostly because he hadn’t gotten the chance to choose what he really wanted to learn about, which meant he spent a lot more time annoying the other students and disrupting class (and getting kicked out of it) instead of learning the things he’d needed for his A Levels. It’s why he’d had to do them over again, which was embarrassing enough. So embarrassing that he was certain no university would take him, so he’d taken a gap year to work, but that had been even worse than school, so he’d applied anyway. 

His mum had cried and hugged him when he got his acceptance. Louis still remembers the feel of her tears on his cheek and neck, her arms wound tight around him. His dad-- no, _stepdad_ \-- had just left, so while getting accepted meant he’d be gone and unable to help out with the girls, it was still something to celebrate, at least. It was probably the first thing Louis hadn’t failed at, actually. Which was nice. 

Anyway, Louis loves being able to choose what he wants to learn about and when. He loves that he doesn’t have to be anywhere before eleven, and that no one’s judging him for staying up ‘til three in the morning to write an essay he’d forgot about, because they’re most likely doing the same thing. The freedom’s intoxicating, in a way, and Louis knows he might be getting addicted. 

But days like today, when the sun’s shining and it’s just a bit crisp outside, perfect for kicking a football around, make Louis want to be outside, not stuck inside listening to someone blather on about the rise of radio in the twentieth century. No matter how cute they are. 

“Still with us, Tomlinson?” Nick’s voice snaps him out of his thoughts, blinking into awareness. Nick doesn’t look mad, though, just has a sort of amused twist to his mouth, and Louis really wants to kiss him. Christ. 

“Yeah,” he croaks, then flushes immediately afterward. So smooth. “Sorry, yeah.” 

“Good,” Nick says, and carries on with his lecture. 

Louis settles back into his seat, determined to pay attention. This is his last class of the day, and there’s only half an hour left, then he’s free to run around with a football all he likes. 

\---

“Hang on a moment, would you please, Louis?” Nick asks it just as Louis’ about to slip out the door. He can practically feel sun on his skin, but he supposes it’ll have to wait. 

He nods to Nick and steps to the side, standing awkwardly as the rest of the students filter out and Nick packs up his things. Louis tries not to watch him too creepily, tries to keep his eyes from boring a hole into his head, tries to keep his foot from tapping on the ground too nervously or from fidgeting. He’s just-- he’s a fidgeter. He rarely feels settled. It happens, he’s fine. He’s used to it, really. 

“Hi, sorry,” Nick says, giving Louis a smile that’s probably supposed to seem apologetic but instead just sort of makes his heart stutter in his chest. 

“S’fine,” he says, going for breezy. “Something you needed?” He hopes he didn’t do anything wrong. Or, shit-- “If this is about today, I’m really sorry, I can usually make myself focus, but--” 

“No, no, Louis, it’s fine,” Nick says with a bit of a laugh, waving him off. “It’s just about your last essay.” 

Right. One of the ones he’d forgotten about and had to write until three am. Nick hasn’t given them back yet, which is no surprise. He winces. 

“Yeah, sorry, not my best work, probably,” he starts, but Nick shakes his head. 

“No, it was good. I liked it. It was engaging and thoughtful, and very….you,” Nick tells him, his face excited in a way that clearly means he thinks he’s giving Louis a huge compliment, which he is, but he’s also sort of making it hard for Louis to breathe, so. There’s that. 

“Oh,” he says, hoping it didn’t come out as squeakily as it sounds to his own ears. He clears his throat. “That’s, um-- Thank you. Really.” 

“No problem,” Nick says with a grin, “I’ve showed it to Dr. Cowell, and he agrees with me.” 

Louis feels a bit like his stomach’s just dropped out of his body. Nick showed his shitty, middle of the night paper to the actual professor and head of the department and he liked it. God. _God._ He may need to sit down. 

Nick frowns. “Are you alright?” 

“What? No. I mean, yes, yes, I’m fine, sorry,” Louis babbles, waving a hand. He laughs, weak and unsure of himself. “I’m just not used to-- to--” 

“Compliments?” Nick’s smile is sly, like he understands where Louis is coming from, and that’s maybe even worse. 

“Doing well,” Louis blurts without meaning to. Christ, but he’s embarrassing. “I mean. Right. Is that all you wanted?” 

Nick gives him a look that makes the back of his neck flush with heat, and Louis doesn’t squeeze his eyes shut, but it’s a close thing. 

“No, we’re good,” Nick says, pausing, still making that face. Louis takes a step back, goes to turn, but Nick catches his arm, his hand warm through the denim of Louis’ jacket. “But you ought to get used to it, Tomlinson.” 

Louis can barely think for the pounding of his heart echoing in his ears. Nick’s hand wraps neatly around Louis’ forearm, and he can’t help but think about what might happen if Nick tugged him closer or pressed him against the wall with that hand around his arm. “Used to what?” 

“Doing well,” Nick says, letting him go and patting his shoulder. Louis tries not to sigh in relief. 

“Right, I’ll try,” he says inanely, and flees the room. 

\---

“And then, and _then,_ he grabbed me! Just-- grabbed my arm like we’re mates or something,” Louis tells Zayn as they sit on the wall, their wall, really, cigarettes in hand. Zayn looks effortlessly cool as usual, a bored expression smoothed over his features. If he didn’t know for a fact that Zayn’s face will light up at any mention of Marvel or modern art, he’d think his best friend really was an arsehole. 

“That’s aces, mate,” Zayn says, flicking some ash off the end of his cigarette. “So when’s the wedding?” 

“Don’t be an arse,” Louis says, kicking at him, but Zayn’s onto him now, so he just dodges it. 

“You want to go to a party Friday?” Zayn says instead of taking the bait, and Louis shrugs. 

“Where?” 

“Niall’s. He invited me. Gonna be huge, apparently.” 

“Do _you_ want to go?” Zayn’s not the biggest partier. Though, he supposes the temptation of hanging out with his new mate Niall is enough to make him brave the crowds. And Zayn gets in these moods, Louis knows, where he just wants to say fuck it to everything and get pissed. It’s why Louis likes him, really. Well, mostly. 

“Fuck off, you know I do,” Zayn answers, rolling his eyes. “Wouldn’t have invited you otherwise, would I?” 

Louis scratches at his chin, the hair starting to grow in there. Usually he shaves, but his razor broke this morning and he hasn’t gotten a chance to get another. He’s not sure when he’ll have a chance, actually. Whatever. A little facial hair never hurt anyone. 

“Suppose so,” he says finally, when he remembers that Zayn’s actually asked him a question. “Yeah, I’ll go. It’ll be nice to see something besides your ugly mug.” 

Zayn snorts. “You’d be lost without me, Tommo,” he says, and Louis blows smoke in his face in lieu of a real reply. 

Zayn knows what it means anyway. 

\---

Zayn and Louis get to the party at ten, and by then it’s already packed. Zayn couldn’t remember when it started and Niall hadn’t answered his texts and Zayn takes forever to get ready, so Louis is used to claiming to be fashionably late when he goes places with his best friend. It’s easier that way. Most people don’t really expect them to show up on time anyway. 

It looks like the party’s only been going an hour or so anyway. Most of the people have cups in their hands and smiles on their faces, so Louis guesses they’re only halfway to drunk. One or two look actually wasted, stumbling and pointing at people only to shout obnoxiously at them a few seconds later. Those people probably pre-gamed. Louis should have pre-gamed. 

He and Zayn push their way through the mass of bodies in the living room where the music’s set up and into the kitchen, fighting for a drink. 

“Zayn!” A voice calls from somewhere near the doorway, making both Louis and Zayn glance that way. A blond head bobs up and down a few times, and then pushes through, a boy smiling widely, dazzling white teeth and bright blue eyes. Louis blinks at him. Must be Niall, then. 

“Hey,” Zayn says, nodding his head at him, like he’s not secretly endeared that this boy looks so happy to see him. Louis knows it’s an act, knows what a soft puppy Zayn is on the inside, and what a tit he is for not at least smiling at him. 

Louis pinches Zayn in the side and offers his own hand to Niall. 

“I’m Louis,” he says pleasantly, and Niall’s smile grows wider as he takes Louis’ hand. “You must be Niall, yeah? Heard a lot about you.” 

“Good things, I hope,” Niall says with a laugh that’s loud and sort of jarring, like it doesn’t quite fit in with the rhythm of everything around them. It’s a nice laugh, though. 

“Obviously,” Louis says, nudging Zayn with his elbow as he draws his hand back. 

“Can I make you both a drink?” Niall asks, gesturing to the impressive line of alcohol on the counter behind them. Louis sure there’s a keg somewhere, and probably more beer in the fridge. He does love a good party. 

Louis raises his eyebrow at Niall, challenging. “You any good at it?” 

Niall grins at him. “Oh, mate, just wait and see.”

\---

Whatever Niall made for him hadn’t done anything much in the half hour it took Louis to drink it, so he’d had another and then another, and then sat down for a bit outside to talk to a girl from his history course. 

Then he’d stood up-- in the middle of the girl saying something, oops-- and swayed heavily on his feet and decided the absolute best thing for him to do would be to dance. 

That was probably an hour ago. It hasn’t worked, obviously, because whenever he stops dancing, the room around him still sways like he’s still moving to the beat. That may just be because he’s pressed in with half the people at the party, though. He really can’t tell. 

The song slows down into something that requires a partner to grind with, and Louis doesn’t have one of those, so he pushes his way out and toward the kitchen again, looking for water. 

There are extra red cups stacked on the counter-- a never-ending supply of them it seems like-- so he pulls one off the tower and makes his way to the sink, turning and colliding with someone before he gets there. Thank God his cup was empty, or he’d have a wet shirt. 

“Oi! Watch it,” he says loudly, pissed off, because his shirt’s not wet, but it could have been. 

“Sorry, sorry,” comes the slightly-slurred reply, but still familiar enough to make Louis’ spine snap to attention, his body tensing almost painfully quick. 

“Nick,” he chokes out, feels his face heating up. Christ, he’s embarrassing. He’s really usually not like this. 

“Louis!” Nick crows it, his wide mouth stretching into a smile and throwing his hands up. His wingspan is massive. His arms are so long. He’s so _tall_. It makes Louis’ skin prickle to think about, which is probably weird, but Louis can’t help the way he is. 

“Christ,” Louis mutters, and Nick laughs, crowding in for a hug. Louis is all at once much too sober and much too drunk to deal with this. 

“You know Niall?” he asks weakly, once Nick’s pulled away a bit. He keeps one arm around Louis’ shoulders, though, solid and reassuring. Grounding, sort of. Louis tries to get away, toward the sink, but Nick follows. 

“Yeah, and Harry, y’know Harry--” Louis nods, even though he’s never technically met Harry. “-- came with him. And Liam. They’re here somewhere.” 

“Are they really married?” Louis blurts, turning on the tap for something to do. Nick leans a little heavier on him. “They seem a bit young.” 

“They are,” Nick says, swaying a bit into Louis’ side. He doesn’t right himself, and when he speaks next, his voice is dangerously close to Louis’ ear. “Dreadfully in love, the both of them. It’s disgusting, really. S’why I’m here.” 

Louis quirks an eyebrow. “To find yourself a husband?” His voice comes out softer than he means, but Nick’s so close Louis knows he must’ve heard. 

He laughs, loud and bright in Louis’ ear. “Something like that, love,” he says, squeezing a hand on Louis’ shoulder. “Now, come on, we’ve got dancing to do!” 

\---

By the time Nick’s hands slide into Louis’ hair and tug his head back, he’s mostly sober. Almost fully sober, really, because they’ve been dancing for ages and Louis can finally stop for a breath without feeling like he’s going to fall over. He never did get to drink that water, but he supposes Nick leaning down to fit their mouths together more than makes up for it. 

Nick kisses like he’s trying to drink Louis in, mouth slick and hot against Louis’, knocking the breath right out of him.. It’s maybe a bit dramatic, but the whole situation feels dramatic, to be snogging the guy he’s had a crush on for ages in the middle of a party. 

The hand in Louis’ hair tightens, pulling just slightly, and Nick licks into his mouth again. Louis melts against him, his own hands coming up to grip Nick’s shoulders, his broad but sort of frightfully skinny shoulders. God, he’s so fit. Louis thinks he’s just _so_ fit. Louis whimpers when Nick’s free hand moves, slides down Louis’ spine, leaving a trail of heat in its wake, and stops in the small of his back, his fingertips digging in just above the swell of Louis’ bum. 

“Fuck,” Louis murmurs, pulling away for breath. He’s maybe panting, a bit. 

“Would you like to?” Nick asks, his eyes dark and his breath hot against Louis’ mouth. Louis is half-hard already, just from the dancing and the snogging and Christ, he does, he wants it more than anything he’s wanted in a while. 

“Please,” he says, digging his fingers into Nick’s shoulders again, making him laugh. 

“Come on then,” he says, stepping back and taking Louis’ hand, dragging him away from the crush of bodies. 

They open the first door they come to, which turns out to be the bathroom, blessedly empty and with a lock on the door. Nick pulls Louis in, shutting and locking the door before crowding him against it, kissing him again. The wood is hard against his back, and he has to strain up on his tip toes to even be able to meet Nick’s mouth, but it’s hot and slick and tastes faintly of rum, and Louis can’t get enough. 

“Come on, there’s a love,” Nick mutters, pulling Louis away from the door and toward the counter. “Up up up,” he says, huge hands on Louis’ hips, guiding him up onto the counter and fitting himself in the space between Louis’ thighs. 

Louis can feel the hard press of his dick, rubbing up against his thigh through the thick denim of their jeans. 

“Fuck, your _thighs,_ ” Nick says, pained, like the mere existence of Louis’ thighs is bringing him pain. It makes Louis flush with pleasure, preen and arch a bit, working his leg against Nick. 

“You can fuck them, if you’d like,” he pants, and feels Nick’s hips stutter against his own. Fuck. _Fuck,_ Louis wants him. He can’t look at anything except the bulge in Nick’s jeans, wants to run his hands over it, wants to get on his knees and blow Nick until he comes, messy and slick in Louis’ mouth. On his face. God, just anywhere really. 

“Really?” Nick asks, squeezing at Louis’ hip. 

Louis doesn’t answer him, just reaches out to undo the flies of Nick’s jeans. One of Nick’s (massive, so so massive) hands stops him, and the other taps at the bottom of his chin. 

Louis looks up, meets Nick’s uncertain gaze. Maybe Louis should be worried about how inappropriate this is, getting off with his tutor in some random person’s bathroom, but he can’t, he _can’t_ , because Nick’s finally looking at him like he wants him and Louis can’t give that up. 

Besides, it’s not like he minds having his thighs fucked. 

“Really,” he says, voice lower than usual and rough. He reaches out again to the waistband of Nick’s jeans, smiles up at him. “Really, really.” 

“Fuck,” Nick whispers, sounding a bit like he knows exactly how bad of an idea this is but saying fuck it anyway. Louis can relate. “Yeah, okay, fuck.” 

That’s all Louis needs. He tugs on the jeans, pulling Nick closer before unfastening them, peeling the fabric down Nick’s stupidly skinny legs. He cups the bulge of Nick’s cock through his underwear, smirking as Nick shudders a bit, his hips moving into the contact. 

“I could suck you off, if you’d like,” Louis offers, carefully working down Nick’s pants, trying not to look too eager as his cock bobs free, long and flushed and perfect. God, Louis wants it. 

“Christ,” Nick murmurs above him, working a hand into Louis’ hair, stroking it back. Louis resists the urge to close his eyes and hum, but only just. “Maybe later, pet. Got something else on my mind just now.” 

Louis nods, leaning back a bit as Nick moves forward again, his hands deftly unfastening Louis’ jeans and pulling them down, leaving them in a crumpled heap on the floor. His underwear are next, and he wraps a bare leg around Nick’s hip, pulling him closer to rut up against him, kissing him. Louis gets distracted by it, the press of Nick’s hips against his own, the slide of their dicks against one another and the jolt that comes when the head of his cock catches on the hem of Nick’s t-shirt. 

Christ, they’ve not even taken off their bloody _shirts._ This has to be the most ridiculous sex Louis has ever had. He wouldn’t trade it for anything. 

Nick pulls back again, pulling his own shirt off and working Louis’ up so it’s bunched under his arms. He pauses a moment, eyes raking down Louis’ body in a way that has him squirming, cheeks heating up as Nick slides a hand from Louis’ hip to his nipple, thumb catching on it. 

“Lovely,” Nick murmurs, making Louis’ breath catch in his throat. He bends away in the next moment to rifle through a cabinet, and Louis laughs when he emerges with a tub of Vaseline. 

He scoops some out and smoothes it down one of Louis’ thighs, watching it turn shiny and slick in his hand’s wake. He does the same to the other one, hand rubbing at Louis’ leg until he’s squirming again, letting out a whine that makes Nick’s head snap up. 

“None of that, pet,” he says sharply, making Louis gasp a bit, caught off guard. Nick’s expression softens, and he leans in, pressing a sweet, slow kiss to Louis’ mouth until he’s gone pliant with it, feels like all he can do is meet the press of Nick’s mouth against his own.

“No whining,” Nick says, pulling away, his still slick hand squeezing at Louis’ hip. 

“Please,” Louis says, shifting off the sink and turning around, his thighs pressed together when they’re slickest. 

Nick leans over him, cages Louis in with an arm on either side of him, nudging at the nape of Louis’ neck with his nose, until Louis has to give in and turn his head to kiss him again, hard and desperate. 

“I’ve got you, pet,” Nick says softly as he pulls away a bit, looking down at Louis’ legs. “Don’t worry, I’ve got you.” 

He kisses Louis again as the head of his cock nudges up past Louis’ balls and dick, pressing through the slick skin. Louis moans weakly at the feeling, hot and slick and hard, biting down on his own lip as Nick’s hands move to pull at Louis’ hips, positioning him how he needs. 

By the time Nick comes, wet and sticky over Louis’ stomach and thighs, Louis’ a mess, his own hand around his dick, moving hard over the head. Nick’s come only makes the glide easier, and when he leans down to bite at the base of Louis’ neck, just where it meets his shoulder, Louis comes, hard and sudden and messy. 

Nick kisses him through it and through the come down, murmuring in his ear, things like “there’s a good lad,” and “you’re so lovely, pet, so lovely for me,” and “God, I could watch you do that every day.” 

An inexplicable sob swells up in Louis’ chest, but he bites it down. No need to embarrass himself more than necessary. 

Nick cleans himself up, re-dresses and helps Louis wipe off his thighs. Christ, his legs will be so sore tomorrow. He can’t remember if he has any plans to play football with anyone, but he’ll probably have to beg off if he does. 

Louis bends down gingerly to collect his clothes, putting them back on as Nick leans against the door, watching. 

“That was good,” Nick says, once Louis’ finished and washed his hands. He’s sure he still smells like sex, but there’s not really much he can do about it. 

“Thank you,” he says, running a hand through his hair. “You’re not so bad yourself.” 

Nick gives him a thin smile. “We probably ought to keep it to ourselves, yeah?” 

Right, of course, because Nick’s a graduate student. A PhD candidate and Louis’ _tutor_. It’s embarrassing to sleep with a first year. Louis gets it, he really does. That doesn’t make it suck any less. “Sure,” he says with a nod. “Won’t mention it.” 

Nick steps forward, cupping Louis’ cheek and leaning down to press their foreheads together. “Not because I don’t want anyone to know, or any other daft thing you’re thinking. It’s just-- a bit inappropriate,” he says, kissing the tip of Louis’ nose lightly. “I mean, I’m your teacher, sort of. I grade your work.” 

“I don’t expect any special treatment,” Louis says sharply, “That’s not what this is about.” He can’t have anyone thinking he’s the sort of bloke who sleeps his way to better marks. He can’t have _Nick_ thinking that. 

“I know,” Nick says calmly, the amused twist coming back to his mouth. “You don’t need it, anyway. I’m just saying. Whatever this is, whatever it’s going to be, we probably shouldn’t mention it in mixed company, y’know?” 

Louis nods, looking down when Nick’s hand falls from his face. He’s not _sad_ or whatever, he’s just. It’s easier to look at the floor, just now, because even though he’s pretty sure he and Nick will do this again, he still doesn’t want to watch him leave. 

The lock clicks, but the door doesn’t open. Louis looks up, frowns at Nick, even as he moves forward again to kiss Louis. A goodbye kiss, then. Louis can live with that. 

“Cheer up, pet,” Nick says softly, pressing a kiss to Louis forehead. “I’ll see you Monday.” 

And that, well, Louis can live with that, too. 

\---

The next morning brings a slight hangover and a bit of memory loss. Louis can’t actually remember what happened after he left the bathroom, only that he had and somehow ended up at home in his bed. He supposes worse things could have happened. 

He makes his way into the kitchen after washing his face and brushing his teeth. He should really shower, actually, but his thighs scream at him every time he moves, so he figures he’ll give them a bit more of a rest. 

Louis grunts out a greeting to Zayn, who’s standing at the fridge. He turns around, raising an eyebrow at Louis. “Where’d you get to last night?” 

Louis shrugs. Nick said they ought to keep it quiet, but Zayn’s not-- he wouldn’t tell on them. He’s a good listener and an even better secret keeper. “Found Nick,” Louis says, trying not to sound like an embarrassing school boy with a crush. It only sort of works. “Fooled around in the loo a bit.” 

Zayn’s eyebrows go nearly into his hair. “Seriously, mate?” 

Louis nods, pressing his lips together to keep back a smile. Christ, he feels so ridiculous about it all, but he can’t help it. He’s _happy._ It’s not really a feeling he’s used to. He doesn’t normally act like this. He needs to get a hold on himself. 

“But I’m not supposed to say anything,” he adds, just so Zayn’s clear. “Don’t want people thinking I’m a slag for good marks, yeah?” 

“Right,” Zayn nods, “‘cause you’re just a slag in general.” 

Louis squawks at him, half his outrage stemming from the fact that he’s not close enough to smack Zayn upside the head. “You’re a dick,” he pouts instead. Zayn just sends him a serene sort of smile from across the kitchen. 

\---

Monday brings rain and a series of classes that Louis can’t make himself pay attention to. He’s supposed to be contributing to the discussion on the reading of an Eliot poem but all he manages to do is stare out the window as the rain pours down, jiggling his leg restlessly under the table. The girl beside him gives him a nasty look every time his gaze switches from the window to the clock, but he can’t be arsed to care about it. 

It’s not that he hasn’t done his work, for once-- because even when he hasn’t done the reading he can bullshit well enough to keep up with the rest of them-- it’s that he doesn’t want to be here. 

He wants to be in his communications course, with Nick. He needs to know if anything’s changed or if they’ll still have that banter and share those looks. Louis can’t think about the alternative, the possibility that Nick might just ignore him, let his eyes glide over Louis and call on Eleanor instead. The thought makes Louis feel ill and anxious, makes him want to be an arse for no reason and run around screaming until everyone notices him and no one thinks about why he’s being weird. 

It’s all just sort of terrible and nerve-wracking, and if Louis had known at the party that he’d feel like this on Monday, he’d never have fucking gone. 

Okay, that’s a lie, but it’s a nice thought to entertain, at least.

It turns out he shouldn’t have worried at all, of course, because the second the door closes behind the last student out of the room, Nick’s on him, crowding him onto a desk in the front row. The thing’s so tiny that he’s not really sure it’ll hold his weight-- especially not if there’s going to be vigorous movement on top of it-- but he supposes it’ll do for the moment. Even if it does creak ominously when Nick leans down to cage Louis’ hips with his hands.

“Thought about you all bloody weekend,” Nick murmurs in his ear, voice low, and Louis’ eyes flutter down, nearly closed. “The moment I left that loo. Couldn’t stop thinking about this,” he says, hands sliding up Louis’ thighs, squeezing. It twinges a bit, but it’s good, makes Louis’ blood run hot and quick and his breath catch in his throat. 

“Yeah?” He reaches out, tugging lightly at a button on Nick’s shirt. “If you’re going to fuck me, it can’t be here,” he says, nosing at the line of Nick’s jaw, pressing a kiss under his ear, smirking at the way Nick’s breath catches. 

Nick tilts his head down, pressing their foreheads together. “Why’s that?” 

“Desk might break,” Louis says, curling his hand in Nick’s shirt, tugging again, harder this time. “Someone might walk in. I’m more than willing to relocate, though.” 

“That can be arranged,” Nick says, leaning down to take Louis’ mouth.

\---

It goes like that, more or less, for about three weeks.

The class meets on Mondays and Wednesdays, and Louis will either stay behind to “discuss an assignment” or he’ll leave with the rest of the students and meet up with Nick somewhere else on campus to go back to his flat. They aren’t obvious, mostly because they’re rarely in public at the same time, and the time they do spend in public together usually involves having three feet of space between their bodies at all time and talking loudly about something from class. 

Louis keeps up his end of the bargain well enough, even though most of the time he’s dying to tell Zayn about all of it. He sticks to letting Zayn know where he’ll be for the night and ignoring the increasingly judgmental looks he gets from him. 

It’s a Wednesday when Zayn finally confronts him about it, sometime near the beginning of November. 

“So are you and Nick, like,” Zayn says, trailing off, obviously expecting Louis to finish the sentence for him. 

“Are we what?” Louis asks, picking up one of his Vans and shoving his foot into it. 

Zayn frowns. “Are you and Nick like, a thing?” 

Louis looks up sharply, frowning. “No? I mean, not really. It’s just sex.” Really, really good sex. “Why? Did you hear something?” Because Louis doesn’t need rumors going around about him. Really. 

“No, no,” Zayn says quickly. “I just-- You’ve been spending a lot of time ‘round his, yeah?”

“Aw, Zayn,” Louis coos, stuffing his other foot into his shoe. “Do you miss me? That’s alright, we can hangout this weekend, promise.” 

“You’re a dick,” Zayn says, rolling his eyes. “But I’m holding you to that.” 

“Of course, darling,” Louis says absently, grabbing his wallet and keys before slipping out the door. He doesn’t think much about what Zayn asked because he supposes it’s a natural thing to think. That Louis and Nick would be considered together, by some people. But Louis doesn’t even want that, and is more than happy enough how they are, really, so he just pushes it out of his mind. 

\---

The first time Louis sees Nick unexpectedly is in the Starbucks closest to the English Literature building. He’s with a group of about three people, further up in the queue than Louis is. Louis’ alone, which means he’s much less likely to get noticed. (Seriously. People tend to stare at Zayn wherever they go.) Harry with the curly hair and Liam are both there, as well as a pretty, tall woman with dark hair. 

She leans in to laugh on Nick’s shoulder and Louis panics for a moment, absolutely sure that she must be Nick’s girlfriend and he’s started up with another self-loathing closeted gay man, until he remembers the way Nick had snorted and said “if I were into that sort of thing” when someone in class had asked if he’d have a go a Britney Spears.

Louis knows he’s staring, but he can’t really make himself stop, so when Nick’s gaze finally focuses outside his circle of friends, Louis feels his face heat as Nick sees him. Or, maybe he doesn’t, since Nick doesn’t smile or laugh or linger on Louis at all. He just looks right over him and glances around the coffee shop before getting distracted by something Harry says. 

They order their drinks and leave without noticing Louis at all. He can’t decide whether he’s pleased or bummed about it. 

\---

The second time it happens, it’s a few days after the Starbucks thing, and Louis hasn’t seen Nick in a week, since Dr. Cowell had decided to come in and actually give the lectures in his own course. 

Anyway, Louis’ in Tesco, far enough off campus that no one would recognize him, probably, shopping for food for the week. He’s in the frozen foods aisle when a familiar laugh gets his attention, heart kicking up in his chest as he turns to look at the end of the row, where Nick’s walking with a blonde woman. He doesn’t have a basket but she does, and they’re not even really looking at the food in the freezers, so Louis’ sure he won’t get spotted. 

Of course, right as he thinks that, Nick looks over at him, again, just like in Starbucks, his face showing no surprise or recognition. Nothing. 

He and his friend walk past Louis, right past him without acknowledging him at all, which is complete rubbish because Louis _knows_ Nick saw him. He’s the only other person in the aisle, and he wasn’t even standing behind a door or anything. 

Hell, it’s not as if he’s asking Nick to shower him in affection every time they see each other, but there’s a way for them to interact normally in public without people thinking they’ve fucked. Louis would know. He’s been in those sort of situations before.

The whole thing leaves a sour taste in his mouth, and he puts down his basket in the middle of the aisle, leaving the store without buying anything. Zayn’ll kill him, probably, but Louis will just say he got distracted. Whatever. They can do the shopping together. 

\---

The third time is different, because for one, Nick doesn’t ignore him, and second, they’re on campus. 

Louis’ in the library, the top floor, looking through some ancient texts that are probably technically in public domain now, that’s how old they are. Louis wouldn’t even need to cite them. Christ. 

“Fancy seeing you here,” Nick says from-- somewhere. Louis looks around, frowning when he spots Nick down at the end. He’s still maybe a little bit upset about the Tesco thing. 

“It’s a library, I’ve been told students use them from time to time,” Louis says, turning back to the books with what he hopes is convincing disinterest. 

“This where you’ve been hiding out, then?” Nick asks, and Louis can hear him walking, his footsteps getting louder. 

“I don’t hide,” Louis says, sharper than he means to, and he hears Nick scoff like he doesn’t really believe him.

“Alright,” he says easily, shrugging, and Louis wants to strangle him. Or kiss him. Probably more the latter. 

“Alright,” Louis parrots, stepping over to to the next section of books. He can’t even remember what he’s looking for, but he also can’t deal with Nick right now. 

Louis feels him lean down, has to keep himself from curling into the welcoming heat of Nick’s body. “Are you upset with me?” Nick murmurs it into Louis’ ear, making him have to suppress a shiver. 

“No,” Louis says, though it’s a lie. Nick must know it’s a lie. 

“Yeah?” Nick leans in even more, nudging at Louis’ temple with his nose, lips brushing his cheekbone. Louis turns his head despite himself, stares at Nick’s mouth, since it’s right in his line of sight. “Prove it. Kiss me.” 

Louis’ gaze snaps up to meet Nick’s. It’s probably not the best idea, really, but Louis isn’t known for making the best choices, so who the fuck cares. 

“Think _you_ ought to kiss me,” he says, turning to face Nick fully, putting his hands on his own hips. 

“Yeah, alright,” Nick says, and leans down to kiss Louis, much softer and more careful than Louis expected. It’s nice, but it’s not what Louis wants, not at all. 

He tilts his head up, biting at Nick’s bottom lip before licking into his mouth, hands curling into Nick’s jumper to pull him close. 

“Fuck,” Nick breathes, arms braced on the shelves on either side of Louis’ head. Christ, he’s _everywhere_ , too tall for his own good and overwhelming Louis by sliding a thigh between his, making Louis balance on his tiptoes to rut against it properly. 

“Sure you want to do this here?” Louis asks, hands on Nick’s hips pulling him closer. 

“‘Course I do, pet,” Nick answers, voice breathy and grinding down against Louis hips. The friction is beautiful, just what Louis’ needs, aside from maybe a hand down his jeans, but he’ll make do. Nick kisses him again, fucking his tongue against Louis’ in the same rhythm as his hips. Louis groans against him, hand moving down to squeeze Nick’s arse, pulling his hips down rougher, burying his face in the front of Nick’s jumper when he comes, hips stuttering. 

“Oh, God,” Nick moans, losing his rhythm as well before stilling completely. They stand there for a moment, leaning heavily against one another and the shelves as they catch their breath. 

“Now I have to walk back to my flat like this,” Louis grumbles, giving Nick’s nipple a hard twist when he laughs. 

\---

After that, Louis thinks that maybe things are okay. They hadn’t talked about how Nick blatantly ignored him in Tesco, but Louis figures maybe they don’t need to. Maybe Nick just….understands. Or something. And was trying to make it up to him by fooling around in a public place. 

Yeah, it sounds weak to Louis too. 

They spend enough time together anyway, in the coming weeks. Louis is a frequent visitor at Nick’s flat, and Nick even comes to his sometimes, when Zayn’s not in. 

“I can’t believe you’re only twenty,” Nick says one afternoon as they’re lounging on Louis’ bed. All they’ve done so far today is snog a bit and have some tea, but the sight of Nick stretched out along the length of his bed is really testing Louis’ willpower. 

“You say that like I’m young,” Louis says, rolling over to straddle Nick’s hips, grinding down against Nick’s dick in a slow circle. So much for willpower. “Or like you’re particularly old.” 

“I _am_ old,” Nick says breathlessly, his hands coming up to rest on Louis’ hips, cold fingertips slipping under the hem of Louis’ jumper and making him hiss. “And you are young.” 

“Cheers,” Louis says with a laugh, leaning down to kiss him, work his hands up under his jumper and tug it off. He runs a hand over Nick’s bare chest, knocking his necklaces to the side to run a hand through the patch of hair. 

“I took a little longer for me to figure things out,” he says when they break apart for breath, kissing under Nick’s jaw. He’s still moving his hips in a slow circle and can feel Nick’s cock fattening up under him, rubbing against his arse. They don’t really make a habit out of proper fucking, but it’s all Louis can think about, at the moment. 

“Figure what out,” Nick says, sitting up to work Louis’ jumper up and off as well and wrapping an arm around his waist to pull him closer, grinding up harder. 

“Like how to pass my A levels,” Louis answers, head falling back as Nick’s mouth works down his neck, sucking at the base, the arch, just above the collarbone. 

“Oh,” Nick says, and takes one of Louis’ nipples into his mouth, tonguing over it until it pebbles up, and then taking it between his teeth. 

“ _Fuck_ , Christ-- Nick, please,” Louis pants, tangling a hand in Nick's hair and pulling until he looks up and can kiss him again. “Wanna ride you,” he says when they break apart again, hands slipping down Nick’s torso to his jeans, fumbling with the button. “Please. _Please._ ” 

“I do like when you’re polite,” Nick says, flipping them over to quickly shuck his own jeans, and then tug Louis’ off. 

“Christ, the bum on you,” he says, breath hot on Louis’ spine. Louis whimpers as Nick slides his pants off, running his hands over the smooth skin of Louis’ arse. He’s more than half-hard already and rapidly chubbing up under Nick’s attention. “I’d like to eat you out, one day,” he adds, leaning up and over, talking in Louis’ ear while he reaches over to the bedside table, hand rooting around in the drawer, no doubt looking for the lube and condoms Louis keeps in there. 

Nick finds them, drops them on the bed next to Louis’ head and bears his hips down against Louis’ bum. 

“Think you’d want that, pet?” Nick’s voice is soft, imploring, but Louis knows somehow it’s not really a question. “Want me to eat you out ‘til you can’t remember your name?” 

Louis’ never really been rimmed before-- always tended to be the one doing the rimming-- but the thought of it now is enough for him to rut foward into the sheets, nodding frantically. 

“Maybe if you’re a good boy I’ll do that for you, hmm?” Nicks hand smooths over Louis’ bum again, and Louis whines when the contact disappears, only to moan a second later when Nick’s hand comes down with a hard slap. Spanking’s not really his thing either, but he can’t deny how much he likes the sting of Nick’s hand on him.

“Fuck, _fuck,_ Nick, please-- let me--” Louis groans, cutting off when Nick’s slick finger presses into him. Nick works Louis open, quickly but carefully, getting three inside him and rubbing up against his prostate until he’s shaking with how much he wants it, wants Nick to fuck him. 

The loss of Nick’s fingers is enough to make him whine again, only to scramble up the bed when he realizes that means he’s finally getting what he wants. Nick lays himself up against the pillows, rolls the condom on and helps Louis straddle him again, moving a hand between them to position his cock up against Louis’ hole. 

“Slow, slow, pet,” Nick says, practically cooing as Louis sinks down until he’s seated and breathing heavily, hands braced on Nick’s chest. God, it’s just-- the stretch of it is so fucking good and just what Louis needs. 

“Go on, love,” Nick says, rocking his hips up gently. Louis bites down hard on his lip to keep in the noise that bubbles up in his throat. 

He starts slow, letting himself adjust until he can really do what he wants, which is brace his hands on the headboard and fuck himself back down hard. Nick’s running his hands up and down Louis’ chest, pinching at his nipples and teasing, driving Louis’ mad with it. 

He turns his head to Nick’s ear, panting against it harshly before managing to say, “Fuck me, please, just--” the rest of his words cut off in a moan as Nick holds his hips and thrusts into him, hard and relentless. 

Louis doesn’t last long after that, not when he gets a hand around himself, and once he’s come, Nick’s not far behind, burying his face in Louis’ neck as spills into the condom. They stay like that for a moment, one of Louis’ arms wrapped around Nick’s shoulders, mouth pressed to the top of his head. 

“Cheers,” Louis says as Nick lays him down, pulling out gently and getting him a flannel to clean up with. 

“Never a problem,” Nick murmurs, falling back into the bed. Louis throws the dirty flannel off the side of the bed and rolls closer to Nick, burrowing under his arm to press against his side. 

“Nap,” Louis says, throwing an arm around Nick’s waist. 

“Nap,” Nick repeats with a nod.

\---

Louis doesn’t meet any of Nick’s friends until a week later, at some social that he’s come to with Zayn and Niall. 

He should have figured that Nick would be there too, what with how Harry and Liam are wandering around, wearing matching bracelets and being disgustingly cute with one another. Nick’s never far behind them, Louis knows. 

Somehow, it’s still a bit of a shock when he accidentally elbows him at the drink table, not having seen him coming, for once. 

“Oh,” Louis says, surprised, blinking up at him. “Hello. Sorry about that.” 

“Louis,” Nick says warmly, though not overly-friendly. “How have you been?” 

Please. As if Nick hadn’t almost broken his bed fucking him the night before last. Louis has to hold back his snort. 

“I’ve been well, thanks,” Louis says with a smile. “You know, revising and such.” 

“Ugh,” a voice says from behind Nick. “Who revises for things? That sounds dreadfully boring.” 

Nick turns as the pretty, dark haired woman from the Starbucks incident sidles up to his shoulder, leaning against him. Nick wraps an arm around her waist. Louis tries not to seethe. 

“Students, I’d suppose,” Louis offers blandly. The woman raises an eyebrow at him.

“You’re not a student,” she says, “you must’ve graduated by now.” 

“Alexa,” Nick says, nudging her a bit, sounding like he’s scolding her, almost. “This is Louis. He’s in the communications module I help with.” 

“Oh,” Alexa says, eyes widening with what Louis assumes is some sort of recognition. Oh god, has Nick been talking about him? Louis can’t even imagine what he’d say. “You’re a first year?” 

Louis nods. “Took some time to figure things out,” he says, his go-to answer since it pretty much answers any questions people might have without requiring further explanation.

“Yeah, like your A levels, right?” Nick says with a smirk, and Alexa laughs. Louis blinks a few times, looking down into his cup. 

He’s not-- he’s not delusional about this whole thing. He’s really not. He knows Nick doesn’t want people to know and he doesn’t really fancy any rumors that could come out of the whole thing, so he’s fine with it, really. Nick’s not his boyfriend in public -- though, Louis isn’t sure he’s his boyfriend in private, either-- and that’s fine. It’s _fine._

It doesn’t seem right, though, for Nick to take something he said in private into public. They’re supposed to be separate. 

“Not all of us can have your level of genius, Grimshaw,” he says sharply, offering a hard smile. Nick frowns for a moment, like he’s confused, but then smiles as well. 

“Of course. Don’t worry, you’ll get there, though,” Nick teases, and Louis wonders if it’d be terribly rude of him to throw the rest of his drink in his face. Probably. Besides, he’d have to explain that. 

“Well,” Louis says, clearing his throat as Alexa looks around the room, apparently bored with them already. “Suppose I’ll be going. Nice running into you, Grimshaw.” 

“Of course, Tomlinson,” Nick answers, lifting his cup in acknowledgement. Louis turns and walks away, feeling angry and confused and a little bit hurt.

\---

Nick shows up on his doorstep an hour after Louis gets home from the party. He hadn’t paid Nick any more attention the whole night, just let him be obnoxious with his obnoxious friends and spent time with Zayn and Niall. 

“Are you going to tell me what that was?” Nick asks once they’re in Louis’ bedroom. 

Louis raises an eyebrow. “What what was?”

“ _That._ Back there. At the party,” Nick explains, waving a hand. “You completely-- you were weird.” 

Louis snorts, rolling his eyes, and doesn’t answer. It’s not the most mature he’s ever been, true, but he also doesn’t even know where to start. 

Nick grabs onto his wrist, pulling him close. “Tell me something, Louis, God.” He sounds legitimately upset, and if Louis had known this was all it took to get Nick to like, actually care about him in public, then he might have tried it earlier. 

“I don’t need to keep doing this if you’re just going to act like I don’t exist,” Louis says finally, trying to tug his arm out of Nick’s grasp. 

“When have I ever done that?” Nick says, sounding offended. “I introduced you to my friends, Louis. _Two hours ago_.” 

“You introduced me to _one_ friend,” Louis says sharply, getting his arm free and taking a step back. He should probably keep his voice down. He won’t. “As your student. And you made me look and feel like a complete knob.” 

“Oh, what,” Nick says, his voice condescending and sarcastic and Louis hates that. He hates being spoken to like he’s a child. “Did I hurt your feelings?” 

“Yeah,” Louis answers, voice hard. “You did.” 

“What?” Nick says, frowning like he’s actually confused. “That’s how we are, Louis. You and me. We tease each other. And we agreed--” 

“We agreed not to tell anyone,” Louis finishes for him, waving a hand, “which is fine. That’s not what this is about.” 

Nick makes a frustrated noise, running a hand through his hair. “Enlighten me, then.” 

“You told Alexa I failed my A levels the first time around,” Louis says, pinching the bridge of his nose. “You and Zayn were the only people who knew that, until today. And Zayn’s never made it into a bloody _joke._ ”

Nick blinks, like he hadn’t actually considered that Louis wouldn’t want his private business spread around like that, or made into a joke, which is just-- God, it annoys Louis to no end. 

“Do you really only think about yourself?” Louis asks, waving a hand around, getting louder the more pissed off he gets. “Are you seriously so self-centered that you think I wouldn’t mind you saying something like that?”

“I am not self-centered,” Nick says, his voice raising as well, and they’re about to have a proper shouting match, Louis can tell. He hopes Zayn’s already left, but he probably hasn’t. That’d be just Louis’ luck. “I ask about your life _all the time_ , you’re the one who won’t tell me anything--” 

Louis scoffs. “What use is telling you anything if we’re not even a real fucking couple?!” 

Nick stares at him, speechless, and Louis can’t even revel in the success of it because his chest feels tight, too tight to let anything in except air. 

“You think we’re not a couple?” Nick asks finally, voice small. 

“If a tree falls in a forest, does it make a sound?” Louis says, crossing his arms over his chest. “If two people fuck each other but don’t go on dates and aren’t seen together in public, are they really together?” 

“Louis,” Nick says, taking a step forward, hand outstretched. His voice is soft, fragile-sounding and much too upsetting for Louis to hear. He doesn’t want to be having this conversation anymore. 

“It’s not even about that,” Louis repeats, because it’s _not._ It isn’t. Sure, he’d like to kiss Nick in public and hold his hand or something, but that’d require Nick to actually realize he fucking exists outside of bedrooms and the top floor of the library. 

“You hardly ever look at me outside of class,” Louis says, crossing his arms tighter around himself. God, he feels so pathetic. “I don’t need you to call me your boyfriend, but I can’t just be someone you don’t see. Or someone you mock with all your posh friends.” 

“You’re not,” Nick says, stepping forward again, “Louis, please, I swear you’re not. I didn’t-- I just--” 

“You need to leave,” Louis says, looking away from Nick’s pleading face. He feels like he should be surprised that Nick can’t even fucking figure out to apologize for his behavior, but he’s not. That’s probably the worst thing about it, really. 

“Please, let me just explain--” Nick says. Louis moves away when he feels Nick’s hand on his shoulder. 

“I don’t want you here right now,” he says calmly. “Please leave.” 

“Right.” Nick’s voice sounds rough. Louis can’t look at him. He hears Nick walk away, the familiar sound of the front door opening and shutting again, leaving Louis alone with his thoughts. 

\---

Louis throws himself into revising for his exams, which start next week, and then he’ll be off for the holidays. He keeps his head buried in books and notes, and doesn’t do much beside eat, sleep and study. His family is glad to see him, and he’s happy to be home, as loud and mad as it is. His sisters spend most of the day bickering with one another and running about the house, but it’s more comforting than anything else. Uni is chaotic but in an entirely different-- much more stressful-- way. This is a madness that Louis’ accustomed to. He grew up with it, after all. 

The only person he speaks to is Zayn, because Zayn’s really the only person he knows from uni. He visits his mate Stan once or twice, but mostly just spends the holiday sleeping in his own bed and trying to keep up with his family. His birthday passes without much fuss, and then the New Year, and by the time he makes it back to school, he’s feeling mostly okay about the thing with Nick. He’s still mad as anything, honestly, but he figures he won’t see much of Nick now since he won’t be his seminar tutor anymore. 

It’s a relief, really it is, but it’s also a bit of a disappointment. 

\---

Louis’ been back a month and still hasn’t seen Nick. 

Not that he wants to see Nick, obviously, but he’d thought it’d be one of those awful situations where he can’t escape him and runs into him everywhere. But, nope. A month into it and still no Nick. 

Of course, when he least expects it is when it happens. Isn’t that how it always goes? 

He’s in Starbucks, and maybe he should have known not to go to this particular one, but he’d woken up to an empty box of tea and Zayn having drank the rest of the coffee. Which means, obviously, that he’s got to go out for his fix, and it just so happens that this Starbucks is closest to his apartment and the building he needs to get to for class. He’s queued up behind a girl with purple hair who’s talking loudly about last night’s episode of _The X Factor_ when he hears a familiar laugh that makes something cold settle like lead in his stomach. 

He bows his head on instinct, trying to hide, even though he knows it’s stupid. If it really is Nick, he won’t talk to him anyway. There’s no point in hiding. 

“Louis?” 

Fuck, no. Louis won’t look up, he can’t, because Nick noticing him is probably worse than Nick _not_ noticing him. He hasn’t had enough caffeine to deal with this today. Honestly, he doubts there’s enough tea in the world to help him prepare for seeing Nick again. 

“What, you ignoring me now?” Louis straightens abruptly, turning sharply toward Nick, who’s come closer. Louis wants to look behind him, see if he’s here alone or not, but he won’t. It’s hard enough looking at just Nick. 

“What do you want?” Louis asks, voice hard. 

“To talk to you,” Nick responds, “How were your holidays?” 

Louis stares at him. He just-- he can’t believe Nick’s acting as if nothing’s wrong. As if Louis hadn’t spent most of the holidays thinking about Nick and their fight and the fact that no one seems to think Louis is real live boyfriend material. 

“They were fine,” he says, finally, moving up in the queue. He doesn’t say anything else. 

“Aren’t you going to ask how mine were?” Nick says, probably raising his eyebrow, but Louis wouldn’t know. He’s stopped looking. 

“No,” he says. “I’ve spoken to you. Leave.” 

Nick frowns. “Can I see you again?” 

“Will there be people around?” Louis asks sharply, not even trying to keep the bitterness out of his voice. 

“If you want,” Nick says with a shrug, like it’s as easy as that. Maybe it is, now that there’s no conflict of interest or whatever. “Could take you somewhere, if you want. Dinner.” 

Louis narrows his eyes at him. He doesn’t completely trust that Nick’s serious-- only because it seems a bit too good to be true-- so he says, “Anywhere I like?” 

Nick nods. “Of course, yeah.” 

“Fine,” Louis says, digging out his phone. He thrusts it toward Nick, who raises an eyebrow at it. 

“Are you going to put your number in or not,” Louis snaps, irritated. Nick grabs it, clicks a few things on the screen and hands it back. Louis takes it from him and slides up in the queue to place his order. 

\---

Louis faceplants into the couch when he gets home at the end of the day, letting his bag fall noisily to the ground. The people downstairs will probably complain, but Louis doesn’t give a shit. 

“Alright?” Zayn asks a moment later, no doubt roused from his room by the scene Louis made. He thought Zayn would’ve been out, actually, but now that he’s here, Louis’ sort of inexplicably glad. 

“I saw Nick,” Louis says into the pillows, and then has to repeat himself when Zayn makes it clear he hadn’t heard him. 

“It was bound to happen, yeah?” Zayn takes a seat in the armchair. “Can’t avoid him forever.” 

“I could try,” Louis says, but Zayn snorts. 

“Please. Like you’d ever do that.” Louis isn’t sure what that even means, so he decides to ignore it. “Where’d you see him, anyway?” 

“Starbucks,” Louis says, sitting up on the couch and leaning into the arm of it to better look at Zayn. 

“What, he saw you somewhere off campus and spoke to you?” The fact that Zayn sounds so surprised about it only reminds Louis how much of a twat Nick has been. 

Louis nods, “Yeah. Acted like nothing was wrong, too, the wanker. Asked how my holidays were.” 

Zayn doesn’t say anything for a moment, just stares into space thoughtfully and then: “And you answered him?” 

Louis snorts. “Panicked, didn’t I? Wasn’t expecting him to even see me. I didn’t know what else to do.” 

“Suppose it’s not the worst thing in the world. Right? He was a jerk, yeah, but maybe he’s trying, like.” 

It makes sense, Louis supposes. But still. “Dunno. But he has my number, so if he really wants to do something, he’ll do it.” 

“Guess so,” Zayn says. He pauses. “What’s for dinner, then?” 

\---

Nick sends him twenty-three text messages over the next three days and Louis doesn’t answer a single one. 

He knows it’s immature, but they always come whilst he’s in class or working on something, or while he’s watching telly and can’t be bothered to text back. Louis’ pretty shit at texting back on a good day, so it shouldn’t really be surprising that he’s failing spectacularly at this. 

“Are you gonna get that?” Zayn asks, after Louis’ phone has pinged for the fourth time in the last hour. They’re playing FIFA, and Louis’ winning by a hair. He also knows it’s Nick. He doesn’t want to answer. 

Louis snorts at him. “You’d like that, wouldn’t you? Trying to get me to let my guard down, you cheat.” 

“Louis,” Zayn says, cursing immediately afterward as Louis scores another goal. Zayn pauses the game and turns to look at him. “You’re avoiding something.” 

Louis shrugs, fiddling with the controller. “Maybe.” 

“Why?” 

That’s the question, isn’t it? Louis doesn’t _know._ Not really. He can make a guess, but he doesn’t want to, because it involved remembering things he’d rather leave forgotten. “‘Cause it’s easier, I guess,” he says finally, because Zayn won’t leave it alone until he hears something. 

“Who is it? Your mum?” 

“No,” Louis says shaking his head. “It’s-- I mean, I’m sure you can guess.” 

“Nick, then.” 

Louis looks away from the scrutiny of Zayn’s stare, running a hand through his hair. 

“You could give him a chance, you know,” Zayn says gently, like Louis might bolt at any second. Fuck, he might. It doesn’t sound like a bad idea, honestly. 

“I could,” Louis agrees slowly, “but there’s no guarantee that he’ll change.” He’d learned that one the hard way. 

“That sounds a lot like giving up,” Zayn says and Louis looks at him sharply. 

“It sounds a lot like protecting yourself, to me,” he says, and immediately wishes he hadn’t. Zayn frowns at him. 

“Blokes aren’t all the same, y’know. He could be different.” 

“Sure, they’re not the same, but they’re similar enough that there’s no point.” Louis sighs, rubs a hand over his face. “Look, I appreciate the pep talk, but I’ve been through this before. I’m not-- I don’t have boyfriends, alright? I have boys who fuck me and then make fun of me in front of their friends.” 

“Louis,” Zayn starts, but Louis shakes his head. 

“No, it’s stupid. I’m stupid. I must be a magnet for them or something.” He pauses to breathe, hoping it might loosen some of the tension in his chest. It doesn’t work. “Can we play now, or do you want to hear more about my pathetic love life?” 

Zayn looks at him for a moment before sighing and unpauses the game. Louis’ still grateful to have a friend like him. 

\---

The messages from Nick don’t stop, even when Louis starts checking them. They’re mostly awful jokes and date inquiries, but Louis just doesn’t know what to say. 

**_look I just want a chance to explain myself. don’t want to do it over text. we can go anywhere you want, really. my treat._**

Louis stares at the message when it comes in, trying to think of a response until his screen goes black. God, Zayn’s right, isn’t he? Louis is just giving up. Christ. He’s a lot of things-- like a fuck-up and a failure and an unholy mess most of the time-- but he’s not a coward. Never. 

_that place on the corner across from the science building. 4pm. tomorrow._

Nick’s reply is swift. 

_**the one that’s all soups and bread? you’re on.** _

Louis feels his mouth twitch into a smile against his will and stuffs his phone under his pillow without replying. 

Of course, the next day brings a bout of nervous jitters that are hard to get rid of. He spends the day snapping at people and feeling bad about it, and also feeling like a knob for agreeing to this dinner in the first place. 

He knows how it’s going to go. Nick’s going to give some reasonable and believable explanation, probably be sweet and apologetic until Louis forgives him, then take him back to his flat and fuck him. And then send Louis on his merry way and never speak to him again. Louis knows how it goes. He was idiotic to think this would be different. 

He gets to the restaurant early, grabs a table by the window and orders himself some tea as he waits. Louis’ heart kicks up in his chest when Nick walks through the door, just on time, and smiling sheepishly as he heads over to join Louis. 

“Hope you weren’t waiting long,” Nick says, sliding into the seat. Louis sips at his tea and shrugs. 

“Wasn’t,” he says, and looks out the window. There’s not much to look at; a couple walking hand in hand toward the bus stop, a few cars stopped at a light. Nick clears his throat and Louis looks back at him. 

“Thank you for meeting me here,” Nick says and Louis shrugs again. 

“You’re paying.” 

“That I am,” Nick laughs, but it seems tense, uncomfortable. Louis feels better about that than he should, probably. 

Silence stretches between them again like an old rubber band; frayed and ready to snap. 

“Look,” Nick says finally, leaning forward, only to be interrupted by the arrival of the waiter. Louis rattles off his usual order of a bowl of the soup of the day and half a roast beef sandwich. Nick orders some kind of salad, which makes Louis roll his eyes. Of course he’d order a salad. The waitress leaves and Louis looks at Nick again, waiting. 

“Right,” Nick says, clearing his throat. “Look, the truth is, I‘m sort of a wanker.” 

Sort of? Louis could expand that into _definitely_ , but he’ll take it for now. “Go on.” 

“I’ve never--” Nick sighs, runs a hand through his stupid quiff. “I’ve never been in a relationship. A real one, I mean, that’s lasted more than a month. Probably because I hardly ever care about anyone except myself.” 

“Wow,” Louis says, eyebrows raising high on his forehead. “That’s brilliant. Please, tell me more about how you give a shit about me.” 

“No, _no_ , that’s not what I meant,” Nick says quickly, his large hands waving wildly. “I was trying to say that I hardly ever care about anyone but I care about you. _You_. Even though you’re mean to me most of the time and haven’t told me anything about your family, I care about you. And I was a twat. And I’m sorry.” 

“Okay,” Louis says, his mind reeling, repeating Nick’s words in his head over and over again, getting caught on _I care about you_ and _I’m sorry_.

An actual apology is a bit more than he’d hoped for, but he won’t let it go to his head. He just has to remember to be smart about it. 

“So what does that mean, exactly,” Louis says slowly, “you being sorry. So what?” 

Nick shrugs. “Dunno, suppose it means I’m a real boy now. That’s what Harry told me.” 

“Okay,” Louis repeats, frowning a bit. “That’s good for you? But you still hurt my feelings by calling me stupid in front of someone I’ve never met.” 

“Right, and I’m sorry for that Louis, really.” Nick looks at him, a sad twist to his mouth and something in his expression like he’d like to reach across the table and touch him. Louis wouldn’t like that. 

“I’d like--” Nick breaks off, clearing his throat. When he speaks again, his voice is tentative. “I’d like to start over, if you think we could.” 

Louis _would_ like that, yeah. He really would, but, “I’m not sneaking around again,” he says. “I didn’t come to uni to keep sleeping with boys who won’t have anything to do with me outside the bedroom.” 

Nick shakes his head, “Of course you didn’t, no one does. I won’t-- I won’t do that again, alright? You’re-- I really like you. Besides,” he adds, taking a sip of the water the waiter has just put down, “I’ve already got a date planned.” 

Louis raises his eyebrows, scoots back so the waiter can put his food down in front of him. “Have you?” he asks, picking up his spoon. “That’s a bit presumptuous.” 

Nick shrugs. “I was hoping you’d give me another chance. It’s not set in stone or anything,” he adds, eyebrows creasing in his forehead, “If you’ve got something you want to do, we can do that, as well. It’s not-- I didn’t just assume you’d come running back, y’know.” 

He looks a bit embarrassed after he says it, and Louis smiles despite himself. 

“I know you didn’t,” he says primly, sitting up properly in his chair. “I’m an enigma. I work hard to keep that mysterious aura about me.” 

Nick laughs, a real laugh for the first time since they’ve been here. It loosens some of the tension in Louis’ chest, and he smiles. 

“Whatever you have planned is fine,” he says, and actually really means it. 

Louis spends the rest of the meal answering questions about his home life, his family and sisters, etc. Most of them are questions that Nick’s asked him before, but Louis always gave vague sort of non-answers, thinking Nick had only been asking out of some sort of misplaced courtesy in the first place. He learns about Nick as well; learns about his siblings, his mum and dad, his degree, everything. 

“I used to think I wanted to be a radio DJ,” Nick says at one point, laughing into his glass as he takes a drink. 

“You would’ve been good at it, I bet,” Louis says, leaning his chin in his hand. “Proper obnoxious enough for it.” 

“Thank you,” Nick responds with a smirk. “I think I would’ve been good at it too.” 

“So why didn’t you?” 

Nick shrugs. “Did a bit of stuff on the uni’s station, but never made the contacts for it, I suppose. Got rejected from the BBC 1 work experience program. It’s all about who you know and that kind of thing.” 

“Suppose so,” Louis says, pausing before, “I almost tried out for _The X Factor_. Sent my application in and everything.” 

Nick’s eyes widen for a moment and then he smiles. “Oh yeah? What happened there?” 

Louis shrugs. “Terrifying, innit? Decided I couldn’t do it and went back to redo my A Levels instead.” 

“Wow,” Nick says, looking more impressed than Louis thinks he ought to. He probably hadn’t heard correctly. No one’s proud of a coward. “Y’know I bet there’s some universe out there where I’m a radio DJ and you’re a pop star.” 

“Fuck off,” Louis laughs, shaking his head. “No need to make fun.” 

“I’m not, I swear,” Nick says, crossing himself, “Promise. I bet there is. I bet we’re great friends.” 

Louis rolls his eyes. “Nick Grimshaw, Fate’s biggest fan,” he says, sort of delighted at the thought himself. “Never knew you were such a sap, mate.” 

“Now you do, then,” Nick says, smiling like he’s pleased with himself. “Suppose there’s no escape. You’re stuck with me.” 

“Yeah,” Louis agrees, “I suppose I am.”

\---

Nick takes him out that weekend, knocks on his door a full ten minutes early, smiling widely when Louis opens it. 

“Sorry I’m early, thought these might make up for it,” he says, producing a small bouquet of flowers from behind his back. They’re all yellow and purple, which aren’t really Louis’ favorite colors, but they’re lovely anyway. And they’re not roses, at least. That might’ve been a bit much. 

“You really are a sap, aren’t you Grimshaw?” Louis tries for mocking, but his voice comes out fond anyway. Nick, bless him, doesn’t comment on it. 

“Suppose I am,” he says breezily, “Can I come in?” 

“Yeah, of course,” Louis says, stepping back to let him in and taking the flowers. “Let me get some water for these, and then we can go.” 

He makes his way into the kitchen, pulling down a vase from the top of the fridge. It’s not so much a vase as it is an empty mason jar, but still. Louis doesn’t really care. The flowers fit inside of it. That’s the important part. 

He leaves them on the work surface and gets his jacket and wallet, ushering Nick out of his flat before Zayn can come out and question the both of them. 

Nick takes him to dinner at some posh Indian place, with cloth napkins and little silver water pitchers on every table. There’s even a tiny tealight sat in between them, and it’s all so cute and romantic that Louis could vomit. 

“Careful you don’t lean too close to that,” Louis says instead, gesturing to the candle. “Your hair’ll go up in a minute.” 

“Thanks for the warning, love,” Nick says, not even looking away from his menu. “Glad to know you’re concerned.” 

“It’d be a tragic loss, wouldn’t it,” Louis says with a snort, “I imagine people would cry.” 

“Oh, definitely,” Nick agrees, “I’d expect a monument to my quiff on every street corner.” 

Louis rolls his eyes and gets saved from answering by the arrival of their server. Their dinner goes easy in a way that being with Nick has always been, full of laughter and flirting disguised as sarcasm and jabs. The more wine Louis drinks, the looser his chest feels and the warmer his cheeks get. 

The wine also stains Nick’s lips red, makes Louis want to kiss the taste of it off them and burrow into his body heat. It’s dangerous, and literally intoxicating, and by the time their server’s brought them the check, Louis’ shifting in his seat, restless and ready to leave. 

He takes Nick’s hand as they slip out the front door and onto the street, the cold air making it a bit easier for him to think. 

“Want me to walk you home?” Nick asks, squeezing Louis’ hand. It doesn’t sound like a proposition, but it could be one, and Louis has the whole walk back to his flat to decide what to do. It’s a nice feeling. 

He nods. “Please.” 

They walk in relative silence, but it’s comfortable, and if Louis leans he’s just tall enough to rest his head against Nick’s shoulder as they walk, which is probably too much, too cheesy, but Nick doesn’t say anything, so Louis figures he can’t mind much. 

Nick leads him all the way up to his door, keeping a tight grip on his hand, even as Louis moves to pull away. Louis looks at him a moment, lets his gaze linger on Nick’s red-stained lips for just a moment more before looking back up and opening his mouth to say goodnight. Nick doesn’t let him, though. He puts a hand to Louis’ waist, backs him up against the wall and leans down to kiss him. 

And, God it’s just-- Louis had forgotten in their time apart just how good it felt to kiss, well, to kiss anyone, but especially Nick. It seems like an action etched into his muscle memory, so ingrained he could probably do it in his sleep. The press of his lips against Nick’s feels right, somehow, and better than Louis really wants to think about. 

Louis goes onto his toes to kiss back, his free hand wrapping around Nick’s neck. He licks into Nick’s mouth, chasing the taste of the wine away, his fingers curling into the hair at the back of Nick’s head, probably ruining his quiff. 

“Want to come in?” Louis asks, pulling away for a breath. Nick has to look down his nose at him, making him a bit cross-eyed, but fuck if Louis wouldn’t kiss him again, kiss him forever if he could. 

“Better not,” Nick answers, his voice rough and regret glinting in his eyes. “I want to do this right, this time around. So. Not until the third date.”

Louis’ heart feels like it might beat out his chest with how hard it’s going. “Who says we’re going out again?” 

“Me,” Nick says, leaning in again to press their foreheads together. 

Louis huffs out a laugh, “Oh yeah?” 

“Definitely,” Nick says, and seals their mouths together one last time. 

Louis doesn’t disagree. Nick makes a strong argument, after all.

**Author's Note:**

> if you want, you can come talk to me on my [tumblr](http://jessimond.tumblr.com) about it. thanks for reading! <3


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